


Those of the Dark (They, Too, Matter)

by TheTwilightDragon



Category: Kirby (Video Games)
Genre: Character Study, Friendship, Gen, I have no idea, One Shot Collection, Possession, Self-Discovery, What even Is gender?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25747249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTwilightDragon/pseuds/TheTwilightDragon
Summary: Formed from the darkness between worlds into a hostile universe, only a small number of Dark Matter grow to affect the galactic stage.There are many who wish none of them did.Nevertheless, they exist. This has far-reaching consequences to many, for good or, more often than not, for ill.But even with all the odds against them, there are many paths to survival.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	1. An Existence Without Joy

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my worldbuilding station!
> 
> I'm using that word instead of headcanon with full awareness that, should my ideas ever come into conflict with canon, canon's getting thrown out the window. But yeah! A lot of this is different from anything I've seen anyone else use, just so you know. (I know how it feels to read fic with _way_ different headcanons than your own...)
> 
> Also, every chapter is going to focus on a different Dark Matter or Dark Matter -related character. I'll post them as I get them written. It might take a while, but I'm reasonably certain I can finish this, sooner or later.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Dark Matter's sole purpose is survival. It should not want for anything more.
> 
> Knowing that does nothing to stop Black-Eye-Purple-Petals.

In the beginning, there was Black-Eye-Purple-Petals.

The translation here lacks nuance: while we might see many Dark Matter as having a black eye and purple petals, the exact combination of shades is unique and, therefore, a valid identification method. Specifically an identification method rather than a name as we understand it, as a Dark Matter need only to recognize members of its own cloud. All others are enemies.

Black-Eye-Purple-Petals is lucky, and learns this quickly. It expands rapidly, growing bigger and stronger until it could stand toe-to-toe with even the greatest of foes. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Dark Matter don’t have toes.

So, there is Black-Eye-Purple-Petals the core, and Black-Eye-Purple-Petals the cloud. As the core grows in power, the cloud grows in size. As the cloud grows in size and strength, the core grows safer, its survival more assured. And survival is, ultimately, the goal of every Dark Matter.

It should be enough. More than enough. Yet, Black-Eye-Purple-Petals finds itself… dissatisfied. There is something missing. It wants something more, yet cannot possibly say what.

Perhaps the answer may be found in other beings of the galaxy.

Black-Eye-Purple-Petals has devoured many, adding their power to its cloud and their knowledge to its own. It now turns to this knowledge in the minds it has suppressed.

He does not understand this ‘gender’ thing, but he is a person. He chooses a set of pronouns, and maybe they’re right for him. He doesn’t know.

It’s still not enough. There’s something about these other beings. Something vague they’ve been taking for granted that Black-Eye-Purple-Petals simply does… not… have.

Concepts like love, and joy, and happiness, or even just contentment. Where do these other beings get them? He sifts through minds in search of the answer. Most have nothing to offer to him, ideas too fleeting and vague for him to grasp.

But there is one that gives him pause.

A warrior deriving satisfaction from his skill with a sword. It makes sense to Black-Eye-Purple-Petals in a way nothing else has. It might be worth trying.

But he can’t wield a sword himself. He has no hands.

He will have to form them, then.

It’s not an easy task. A Dark Matter core may have the capability to transmute itself in ways not unlike the changes Dark Matter cause in other beings, but to assume a specific form requires incredible control. To maintain it, even more so. The inherent nature of Dark Matter is mutagenic – chaotic if you will. It can be overcome, but only through great effort.

Black-Eye-Purple-Petals expends that effort, learns that control. He assumes a form able to wield a sword. He acquires a blade of his own. He learns how to use it, in no small part thanks to the knowledge gleaned from the warrior. He becomes a Dark Matter Swordsman. The Dark Matter Swordsman, in fact, for there is no other like him, he’s sure.

And yet, for all his efforts, he simply cannot find happiness.

He does not understand. He cannot understand.

What is he missing?

He simply cannot seem to figure it out, no matter how hard he tries. And he tries. Oh, how he tries. For a long, long time.

As his efforts continue to be for naught, something else awakens. It’s not any of the things he’s been chasing. Frustration. Hatred. Resentment. If the Swordsman can’t have happiness… why should anyone else have it, either?

Before, he’d been motivated by survival. Now, ever so slowly, he starts acting out of anger. Taking over swathes of beings not as resources, but just to take their happiness away from them.

There is no satisfaction to be found here. But then again, there is no satisfaction to be found anywhere. The Swordsman rages against an uncaring universe, never considering the problem might be found within himself. Never considering there may be other options still.

In the end, when it comes right down to it…

…The Swordsman is still Black-Eye-Purple-Petals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not the first person to use _What Even Is Gender?_ as a tag. Maybe I shouldn't be as surprised by this as I am. It _is_ a fine tag.


	2. The Odd One Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Dark Matter cell is but an extension of the core. A tool, or perhaps a limb. It does not have a personality of its own.
> 
> And yet...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The (character-specific) ideas in this chapter were only really developed during my writing of this fic, in contrast to a later chapter that's going to include a concept I've been wanting to write for ages but never gotten around to until now.

All Dark Matter know instinctively, without ever being told, that the only thing that matters is the Cloud. All beings outside the cloud are enemies or prey. Unimportant.

All except this one.

This one is… somewhat strange. Has been since their creation. They could not have become so without that first, original oddity in them.

A Dark Matter cloud consists of the core and the cells. The cells are formed from and by the core, mere extensions of its will if separate in consciousness. A well-organized cloud is effectively a sophisticated intelligence network. Within it, the latest orders from the core move through the cells in a timely manner as knowledge is shared and moved back and forth within the cloud. When a cloud works the way it should, all cells are frequently updated. There should be no stragglers, no cells forming their own, separate personalities.

And yet, somehow, this one manages to defy all expectations and be left out of the network. Be forgotten.

And so, what starts out as a slight oddity…

…evolves into a strangeness never seen before. One that goes completely unnoticed by the rest of the cloud. After all, this one has the feel of kin and the right combination of colours. That’s all that matters to the rest.

For all the danger Dark Matter pose to others, including other Dark Matter, the cloud is the safest place for a cell as long as it’s recognized as a member. For a long time, this one remains within the safety of their cloud.

However, while they’re never updated, never returned to the fold, they’re still spoken to by the others. Dark Matter have a language of their own, something undefined between telepathy and speech. Why they should need one when knowledge is passed through the cloud by the mind-sharing touch of the core and its cells and other clouds are enemies to be destroyed is unknown. Perhaps there are situations where communication over some distance is beneficial.

Whatever the case, the others tell this one of the places they’ve seen and the beings they’ve encountered. And slowly, with every story told, this one’s curiosity grows. They wish to hear more stories, certainly. But more than that, they wish to see all these things for themselves.

To do that, they will have to leave the cloud. For most Dark Matter, that would only mean leaving the physical location around the core to do its bidding and, eventually, return to it. But this one is aware that, once they leave, they will never return. They are aware of their strangeness, of their being different from the others. The rest of the cloud may welcome them back, but that’s not what this is about. They feel the call of the outside universe too strongly. They know this.

It’s not even just that they want to see the universe themselves. That’s part of it, yes. But ultimately… they wish to meet others. To greet people as friends. It’s a strange concept for a Dark Matter. They have no word for it. But the idea is there, and they’re keen to pursue it.

Before they can leave, they have to prepare. There are many things to consider if they are to approach those not Dark Matter without animosity. They learn as much as they can of those other beings, of their looks and their languages.

With that done, this one leaves to find their own way. No one stops them. It’s not in the nature of Dark Matter to obstruct members of their own cloud, and they still read as kin. They find a secluded place to finish their preparations. And then, they _change_.

No one had ever told them that only cores were supposed to be able to change themselves. It should have been self-evidently impossible. But ‘impossible’ is not the same for all beings.

It’s not a _huge_ change, comparatively speaking. Not like growing new limbs altogether. Just a couple facial adjustments, to better fit in. Splitting one eye into two, adding a mouth underneath. This, they understand, is the most common facial structure around. They’d heard there are other beings with only an eye for a face, but they are more uncommon. Better to play it safe.

They make an effort to look as unthreatening as possible. They practice the speech of other species. This one knows they have to make a good first impression if they are to be accepted.

Finally, when they feel they are as ready as they are ever going to be, they leave their hiding place in search of people.

They end up finding those people near a river flowing through grasslands (all new things that they’d heard about but never seen before). All with different shapes, but they all have two eyes and a mouth underneath. Clearly, this one made the right decision in that respect.

The people turn to look at this one as they approach cautiously. This one senses no danger from them, though they wouldn’t know if it felt different from other beings. They try a greeting, the way they’d practiced. “Hi!”

“Hi!” A number of different appendages are raised, returning the greeting. The one in the water continues, “Haven’t seen you around here before! Are you new to Dream Land?”

They nod as best they can. “New, yes.”

One of the people scrunches their face a little and tilts their… _head_ to the side. They seem to study this one for a while before moving closer and reaching out for them. They freeze in place, not knowing what to expect. As the appendage- the _paw_ touches them, they feel a sense of curiosity from the person. They try their best to keep their consciousness separate from them- _him_. There’s no sense of sudden panic or even discomfort, so evidently they succeed. He only nudges them a little on the top before stepping back. It seems to be meant in a friendly sense. “Well, aren’t you gooey!” he says happily.

The other half of this one slides up to the one with new information, letting their bodies brush together to share it. A silent, near-instant conversation later the one who came into contact with the hamster moves forward.

“Yeah, that’s me. Gooey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time on _Those of the Dark (They, Too, Matter)_ , the author has to tag a localization-only character with no canon name! Fun.
> 
> Yes, the next chapter continues on 'this one', this time with a closer look into Gooey and... Not-Gooey's relationship, similarities and differences. If you're excited for that, great! If not, then, uh, sorry? I very clearly have subjects I get wordy about and subjects I don't and trying to fight that would most likely be an absolute waste of time.


	3. The Other Half of a Whole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first step has been taken, but there's still much left to learn.
> 
> This one gets acclimated to living among other beings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The good thing about writing a character canon doesn't want is that there's never going to be anything to contradict my ideas.
> 
> Also, I've now learned that posting the first one shot of an incomplete collection makes me keep the rest on my active writing list - the incomplete work doesn't get shifted out. It doesn't stop me from having _at least_ half a dozen actively written fics at any given moment, but it does seem to improve the time it takes me to get the next piece done. By a _lot_.

‘This one’ is a unit composed of two Dark Matter cells. They have no names before leaving their cloud. They just know who they are, in regards to each other and otherwise. Even after breaking from their cloud, breaking from each other would be unimaginable: they are essentially two halves of a single whole. This does not make them identical – simply complementary. They are very strange for Dark Matter, after all.

After meeting the people they would soon be calling friends, one of them names themself Gooey. It’s the first name they’ve been given, however accidentally, and they find they like it. The other does not follow their example. They may not truly understand names yet, but they know they are not Gooey. Their new friends keep throwing name suggestions their way after understanding they have none, but none of those suggestions feel right. It’s fine, though. They’re in no hurry.

This one – Gooey and Not-Gooey – are inseparable. Where one goes, the other follows. They never stray far from each other, constantly sharing new knowledge and thoughts thereof. It doesn’t take long for the people of Dream Land to figure out these two do everything together.

Until one day they don’t.

There’s nothing really special about that day. The weather is nice, and some of their friends invite them to join them at the beach. Gooey goes with them. The other one doesn’t. They read a few chapters of a book, eat some apples and have an interesting conversation with a Birdon and a Waddle Doo. When Gooey returns from the beach, they share what they have done during the day. They go through all the things they would have done differently in each other’s place, and conclude it’s fine. Their approaches and temperaments are different, and that’s _good_.

When the going gets tough, when it’s time for action, Gooey doesn’t hesitate for a second. They’re not one for overanalysing things. They simply go with what feels right, and get things done. Not-Gooey is more hesitant, more likely to hang back and think things through. To carefully put everything together and use the knowledge gleaned that way to its utmost potential. Together, their strengths _shine_.

It’s only through putting together their different ways of gathering information that Not-Gooey starts getting a grasp on some of the more abstract concepts such as gender. Gooey doesn’t bother with gender – they’re Gooey, and that’s enough for them. Not-Gooey, on the other hand, observes, and reads, and speaks with others, and begins, finally, maybe, to understand. When she brings up her new understanding of her identity to Gooey, they decide they don’t feel the same way, they’re still just Gooey, but they are fully supportive of her.

It’s not a huge change, really. She’s still herself, just with a new understanding of who ‘herself’ is. It helps that no one’s treating her differently, really. Well, for the most part, anyway. Chuchu starts spending slightly more time with her, often inviting her along to small gatherings.

It’s during a picnic with Chuchu and Coo that she notices it. Of course, she’d seen it before many times – Chuchu hardly ever went anywhere without a bow, and this one’s her favourite. But Not-Gooey hadn’t paid attention to it before. Not really. This time, however – this time it attracts her attention, and refuses to let go.

She doesn’t do anything about it. Not at first. It’s not in her nature to act rashly, after all. Not-Gooey goes home, shares her thoughts with Gooey, and thinks about it for many days before coming to a conclusion.

The next time she sees Chuchu, she asks her about the bow. Chuchu is delighted to be able to help a friend, showing her many bows of different colours and letting her pick whichever she wants. Not-Gooey looks them over carefully and, finally, chooses. They are not cloud-identification colours. They are simply colours she finds appealing. Having opinions on colours is a new thing, too. It had never been relevant within the cloud.

Chuchu helps her tie the bow securely. “It looks great on you,” she proclaims. “Take a look!”

Not-Gooey looks at her reflection. Finally, with the sense that this was what she’d been looking for all along, she decides on her name. “I think I’ve figured it out,” she says.

“Oh?” Chuchu indicates for her to continue, not certain what she’s talking about but intrigued nonetheless.

She smiles confidently. “My name is Bow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No relation to Lady Bow from Paper Mario.
> 
> My original idea had the bow before the pronouns. It just happened that things connected this way when I actually wrote the fic. My writing is heavily based on 'I've read enough to have a feel on whether something's good or bad'. I feel this chapter flows well as it is now, so I'm posting it. Sometimes I feel like something isn't quite right but can't figure out how to fix it, though. Still, an imperfect finished work is better than a perfect one that's never going to get done. (Also, I always do last-minute editing while posting. This is after at least one round of editing with fresh eyes. Some people can post a work immediately after writing it. I'm not one of them.)


End file.
